


Seen and Unseen

by LadyLattice



Series: 'Noncompliance' Universe [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Cute, Family Feels, I Don't Even Know, Implied Hashirama/Madara, my heart, why do I do this to myself?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6356839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLattice/pseuds/LadyLattice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise learns more about his Uncle Izuna... from the source himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seen and Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> Whoooo this was rough to write. It made me get all in touch with my emotions and shit. I would apologize for the fact that it’s almost entirely dialogue, but I think you guys can forgive me for that. And for how random this was. I mean honestly.  
> Please drop a review if you’d like, as I would certainly appreciate it.  
> Meadie out.
> 
> Naruto and all associated characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, to whom all rights belong.

 

            “Father?” Kise asked through a yawn when he poked his head into the doorway of Madara’s study, squinting dark eyes at the glare of the candles that illuminated the room.

            “Why are you still awake? It’s long past midnight and you should be in bed,” the Uchiha patriarch scolded as he glanced up from his scrolls.

            Shrugging, the boy padded a few steps into his adoptive father’s office, rubbing his eyes and tugging his blanket more firmly around his narrow shoulders. “I was, but the man woke me up,” he whined.

            “Man?”

            “He just left. He was standing outside of my door and I followed him, but he was gone after I got out of bed.”

            Madara tensed, wary that someone had slipped past his notice and activating his Sharingan suspiciously. “Who, Kise?”

            “The man who’s in your office with you sometimes.”

            “That’s enough nonsense,” the elder scoffed, temporarily abandoning his work so as to usher the child back to his room and settle him once more into his futon. “Hashirama just got home from Hokage Tower, and you probably saw him checking that you were asleep. As you should be now, instead of up pestering me.”

            Kise arched a flustered brow as he pouted, angry at being ignored. “It wasn’t dad! It was the pretty man that wears the clan crest!”

            “The _Uchiha_ clan crest?”

            “Yes!”

            With a weary sigh, he draped the blankets up to his son’s neck, his remaining patience dissolving as the absurdity of the conversation increased. “Back to sleep, I have work to finish. There had better not be a sound coming from this room, am I understood?”

            “But, father! What if the man comes back?”

            “There is no man, Kise,” Madara groaned, carding thin fingers through his hair and turning to leave, closing the door until only a sliver of light shone in from the hallway. “But if it will make you feel better, I’ll sense around for this _man_. Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight, father. I love you,” the boy called after him quietly, only to receive a snort in reply. Lying in the dark, Kise furrowed his brows deeply, certain that he had seen the same man who often sat alongside his father as he worked, saying nothing, but poised and silent like a sentinel. It was not peculiar that Madara did not acknowledge him, as the elder Uchiha often preferred to stew in a heavy hush as he sifted through his papers and books and scrolls, disregarding all who entered the office and refusing to speak – unless to scold them or shoo them away, of course. Still, it was strange; and Kise fought against his mind’s desire to dwell on the subject as he closed his eyes, searching for sleep.

            “You can see me, kid?”

            A melodious, but distinctly male voice from the corner of his room urged the child to sit up suddenly with a nervous gasp, gaze searching wildly for the source. From the shadows stepped the man he had seen before, average in stature with a pretty face and creamy skin, and long ebony hair that framed his face tied back in a low ponytail.

            “The man!” Kise softly barked, eyes wide. “Who are you?”

            “So you _can_ see me. My name is Izuna, little nephew.”

            The boy tilted his head in confusion, studying the figure for a long moment. “Izuna… _Uncle_ Izuna?! But you died a long time ago! Father told me!”

            “Shh! Keep your voice down! Do you want my brother to come back here and scold you?” Izuna hissed as he casually took a seat at the end of the futon. “And yes, I died a long time ago.”

            “Then how… what? Are you a ghost?!” Kise asked, doing his best to stay quiet as he peeled himself from his blankets, crawling to sit across from the elder man.

            “That’s one way of putting it, I suppose. But I prefer ‘guardian spirit’,” he replied dismissively, gesturing widely before folding his arms into his sleeves. “Sounds less spooky.”

            The little Uchiha giggled behind his hand, with a light grin. His uncle was much like Madara had described him – beautiful and mischievous and too sassy for anyone’s good. “So you watch over father?”

            “And you,” the phantasmal figure winked, clearly proud of himself. “My brother cares for you very much, but he’s not good at the whole parenting thing. Who do you think woke him up when you were in trouble a few weeks ago? He had dozed off at his desk because he had been overworking himself like usual, and I didn’t think that the fluctuations in your chakra alone would be enough to rouse him. He was sleeping like a rock. Anyone could’ve snuck up and killed him! Peace has made him lose his edge.”

            “So you can touch things?”

            Izuna nodded as he unfolded his arms, leaning back on his hands. “I can, it just takes effort to do so. Otherwise I just exist, wandering around and whatnot.”

            “Then why can only I see you, uncle?”

            “I don’t know,” the elder man admitted with a shrug, poking the boy’s forehead playfully. “I think it has to do with when you hit your head… you must’ve rattled something loose up there. Plus, you’re a sensor type. After all, I’m only really an echo of my chakra, so I’ll probably disappear one day soon when my energy runs out. Damn, it’ll be like dying all over again.”

            Kise frowned, tugging his knees to his chest and shifting his eyes to wander aimlessly over the tatami floor, avoiding his uncle’s gaze. “That’s sad. Are you scared?”

            “No,” he replied, a gentle smile softening the lines of his lips. “I’ve been lingering around here for seven years, unseen and unheard, but I was able to watch nii-san become the person he is. When he agreed to peace with the mokuton moron I was angry, and it felt as if I had died for no reason at all. But then things started to change, and my brother started to change… he was happier and more at ease, and he fell in love. I could never resent him for that. Now I even have a nephew!”

            Tousling the boy’s hair, Izuna’s grin fell into something slightly mournful, though it only lasted for an instant before it was wiped away by an exasperated pout. “Though it has been a bit lonely all this time, so I had to find something to entertain myself with,” he griped.

            “It’s you!” Kise practically shouted, eyes growing wide with realization. “You’re the one who’s always playing tricks on dad and Uncle Tobirama!”

            The elder Uchiha snorted as he arched a thin brow, a devious, lopsided smirk unpeeling across his face. “All it takes is moving something when they aren’t looking, or changing a single character in a scroll, and they fly into a tizzy,” he laughed. “Hashirama isn’t as fun to tease because he’s forgetful and stupid, but Tobirama is too observant for his own good. He always remembers exactly where he leaves things, so if I put it somewhere else and he can’t find it, he gets so mad you can see the veins in his temple about to burst.”

            Kise giggled, a sound cheery and bright like wind chimes, and laid back on his futon as he burrowed into the blankets, his uncle’s ghost lying beside him with his hands folded under his head. “He is funny when he’s mad, as long as he’s not mad at you,” the boy sighed, rolling on his side to watch the elder man carefully. “He always blames it on Kagami and makes him do extra shuriken practice.”

            “It could hardly be a bad thing for that boy to have extra shuriken practice,” Izuna snorted, faintly amused. “He’s terrible with shuriken.”

            “Yeah he is,” the child tittered, hiding under the blankets to suppress the sounds of his laughter. Cautiously he extended his hand, hoping to nuzzle against his uncle, but recoiled with a gasp when his palm swept straight through the elder man’s body as if it were morning mist. “I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

            “It’s fine. I can materialize until you fall asleep, but in exchange you’ll have to do something for me tomorrow. Deal?”

            With a light hum Kise nodded in acceptance, leaning against Izuna’s side and marveling at how entirely bizarre the situation was. The presence alongside his own felt thin and airy, pleasantly cool to the touch like dipping one’s toes into a creek in early spring, before the sun had warmed the earth back to life. He had just held a conversation with a man who has been dead since before he was born, and it was easy and lively as if they had known each other for years. Kise loved his uncle very much, he decided with a grin, snuggling nearer when the feather-light pressure of Izuna’s arm draped over his narrow frame, fingers toying absently with hair that had grown to his shoulders over the past several months.

            “Uncle?” the boy questioned quietly, earning a low grunt in response. “Will staying here like this make you disappear faster?”

            The elder man sat in silence for a moment, fingers stilling against his nephew’s scalp for but a brief moment. “Probably. But I don’t mind. As long as you keep your promise to do that favor for me, it’s alright if I use up my remaining energy.”

            “I will, I swear,” Kise assured in a stern tone. “I’ll do anything.”

            “Good boy,” Izuna chuckled. “Now sleep.”

{{{}}}

            “Kise!” Madara barked from his office, startling the boy who sat with his feet dangling over the modest koi pond in the courtyard, a book sprawled across his lap. “Kise! I told you not to touch my papers when I’m working! What is this mess?!”

            “I haven’t been in your study, father!”

            Heavy, determined footsteps pounded through the house until the Uchiha patriarch stomped up behind his adopted son, brandishing a sheet of paper with an extremely vulgar word scrawled in large print that covered the entire face of the rather official-looking document. “Then do you care to explain how this happened?!” he huffed, fuming. “How do you even _know_ words like this?!”

            The child squinted at the characters on the page, as if the action would help him to understand their meaning. “Di—,” he muttered, growing frustrated. “Dil—do…?”

            “For kami’s sake, don’t repeat it!” Madara growled when he crumpled the offending object viciously in his fist. “It’s bad enough that you wrote it once! Who taught you this?!”

            “It wasn’t me, I swear it!”

            Sighing and rubbing his temple, the elder man dropped to one knee, clearly straining to suppress whatever anger was boiling beneath his skin and throbbing in his skull. “Listen, I won’t punish you. Just tell me the truth.”

            Kise seemed to peek over Madara’s head, searching for approval from something that the clan head could not see before nodding once, sternly, and taking his adopted father’s hand gently in his own. “Don’t be mad, but Uncle Izuna wrote it. He wanted to get your attention.”

            Startled, his other knee slammed painfully down on the wood of the porch, eyes wide and hands trembling slightly. “Why…? Kise, why would you tell such a lie? How… how _dare_ you?! My brother….”

            “Nii-san,” the boy said calmly, glancing behind his father once more. “I’ve told the kid to repeat everything I say. Apparently he’s been able to see me since he got himself knocked out a few weeks ago. I’m sorry that we have to communicate like this, but my energy is running out and I just wanted to say goodbye.”

            “Izuna?!” Madara stammered as he whirled around, looking over his shoulder. “Izuna, where are you?!”

            “You won’t be able to see me, aniki, but I’m here. Just stop shouting for once in your life and listen, will you?” Kise conveyed, hoping that he would not be scolded for repeating his uncle’s words. “But don’t get mad at the kid for whatever I tell him to say,” Izuna added through his nephew, as if reading the boy’s mind.

            “I’m proud of you, nii-san. You’ve changed a lot, and I’m proud of that too. I’ve been watching for the last seven years, wanting to be sure that you eat enough and sleep enough and don’t work yourself to death. But at least the mokuton moron has been keeping his eye on you all this time. He always has been, I suppose,” Kise paused as his uncle snorted mirthlessly. “Even though I felt betrayed when you agreed to peace, I’ve been wandering around this village long enough to see that maybe you two weren’t as wrong as I thought. Your pipe-dream isn’t just a dream anymore, aniki, and I could never be bitter after watching you succeed and flourish. I’m still glad that I gave you my eyes, because of all the regrets I have from life, that is not one of them. You’ve done incredible things with my gift.”

            Madara took a deep breath as if he had been kicked in the gut, blunt fingernails curling into the wooden floor. “Little brother… are you not… displeased with my choices?”

            “No,” Kise stated bluntly, and the Uchiha patriarch felt a gentle breeze brush against his cheek, light like the touch of loving fingers. “I could never be angry with you if the decisions you made brought you happiness, nii-san. Are you happy?”

            “I am,” the elder man replied weakly, scarcely able to reject the boy who clamored into his lap, small arms closing around his waist. “But I miss you, Izuna. I’m so sorry. I should have died in your place.”

            “Umm… I don’t want to say that to father, uncle,” Kise mumbled as he arched a skeptical brow towards the empty space behind them, finally huffing his consent with a pout. “Uncle says: don’t be stupid, Madara. If you had died instead, then I’d _still_ probably be dead and none of this would exist. You wouldn’t have the village or the clan or a son. Everything would be exactly as it was when we were children. I’ve been waiting for years for the Senju to betray you, but that idiot Hashirama has only grown to love you more and more as time has passed. I hate to admit it, but… maybe I was wrong.”

            The youngest Uchiha giggled into his father’s robes, nuzzling against his broad chest. “Uncle Izuna made a funny face,” he explained through puffs of laughter. “Like dad when he loses a game of shogi.”

            Conceding a small smile, Madara stroked a calloused palm over the child’s brow as he brushed strands of dark hair away from his face, though there was sadness in his eyes that betrayed the gentle arc of his lips. “He does make stupid faces, doesn’t he?” he offered softly.

            Kise nodded, but diverted his attention quickly as if listening intently. “Uncle says that there’s a few more things he wants to mention before he goes. One,” the boy began, holding up a single finger. “Stop working so hard and be sure to eat properly. You can’t survive off of tea and inarizushi. Two: you’re getting old, nii-san, so keep up with your training.”

            “I’m not _that_ old, you brat!”

            “Three,” he continued on, regardless of the Uchiha patriarch’s outburst. “Start raising falcons again – it always made you happy. And then you can teach the kid. Four, tell Tobirama that he needs to pull that stick out of his a—… Uncle Izuna said a bad word.”

            Madara scoffed and shook his head, clearly not surprised. “Otouto….”

            “He says that this is the last thing: don’t doubt yourself so much. It’s alright for you to be happy, even though I’m gone. I will always love you, brother. Goodbye.”

            A warm eastern wind swept through the courtyard and rattled the leaves of the stately oak which grew there, and Kise grew silent, his arms closing lovingly around his father’s shoulders. The pair sat in the quiet for several long moments, Madara’s face buried into the child’s neck as he held his son close to his chest, the afternoon sun warming their clothes and hair. Finally the elder spoke, breaking the brief reverie with a voice that had lost much of its authority, soft and weary. “Is he gone?”

            “Yes,” the boy answered solemnly, several tears fighting to slip free of his closed eyes. “Did I make you sad, father? Uncle said that he didn’t want to make you sad.”

            “No,” he assured weakly with a shake of his head.

            Small hands found his cheeks, tilting his face up to meet Kise’s watery gaze, the crisp shade of black in the child’s eyes far warmer and more welcoming than Madara’s own. “Dad says that it’s okay to cry, even if you’re a shinobi,” the little Uchiha counseled graciously, fingers tracing the tired lines that shadowed his father’s eyes and mouth. “He says that letting yourself be sad when you’re sad and letting yourself be happy when you’re happy keeps your heart healthy. I don’t want you to get sick just because you’re scared of crying.”

            “You truly are a kind child,” Madara huffed, though he lowered his head again, a few tears escaping to roll down his cheeks.

            “See? Now your heart won’t get sick,” Kise chimed with a bright smile that rivaled the sun as he nuzzled against the elder man once more, sighing contentedly. “I love you, father.”

            “Thank you.”


End file.
